


The Price we have to pay

by FujiDawn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, I love to see them suffer, I'm Sorry, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3123101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujiDawn/pseuds/FujiDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things end differently than the Avengers or SHIELD thought.<br/>Very differently.<br/>Because when Loki experiences a break-down while in holding, nothing stays as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price we have to pay

**Author's Note:**

> Very strange, and completely out of control as well as not Avengers-or-following-movie-compliant.  
> Simply said, this is gruesome.  
> Not bloody or gory, but emotionally wrecking. For me at least. The tags are way too simple, but I don't like to reveal everything beforehand.
> 
> I you can't handle reading about losing a child - do yourself a favour and stop reading now.  
> As for the others - prepare for hurt.  
> You're warned.

 

 

 

There were only so many options one had when in his situation, and while he had tried to find the safest way, the one that would for once work out in his favour, the place Loki found himself in right now was utterly terrifying and immobilized him in every sense of the word; he was physically and psychically petrified by pain, unbearable and heart-shattering pain that filled his body and mind in equal parts.

The green Beast huffed and turned away.

Loki didn't even have the strength to cry.

 

 

Pulling himself out of the crater had taken all of his concentration, and all of his body control. The tiny flutter of hope in his heart had kept him going instead of crumbling down. He hurt, yes, but he hadn't...

It wasn't...

Jokingly asking for the drink he knew he'd never receive, Loki let the so-called Avengers manhandle him into another holding cell, graced Thor with the option to cuff him with the chains he had brought from Asgard, and did exactly what he had done before – he smiled and sat down.

No one bothered him after that.

Oh, Loki knew they had cameras and microphones lined along the walls, to watch and guard him, so he kept up his act of feigned nonchalance.

For all he knew, his plan had worked. He would be returned to Asgard, he would be able to speak his plead to the All-Father (pride be damned, this was so much more important than pride), and -

Pain flared up again all of a sudden.

Loki went from pale to white, green eyes widened in fear as he choked back his breath and a moan.

Curling into himself on the hard cot, knowing he would be unable to stop this even with access to his magic and in full strength, the man wrapped his arms around his legs.

“No. No no no. No. Please no.”, he murmured, shaking like a leaf while he felt blood gushing down his pants, unable to process that it had happened _again_.

When he understood, his murmurs became cries.

 

 

A few rooms down the hall, where the video and audio feeds were brought to screens and speakers, all hushed talking suddenly stopped.

“What...”, Stark muttered, eyes glued to the monitor.

Loki spewed forth a litany of 'No!'-s, trembling in a way that screamed he was in pain far greater than Hulk had put him through, his face a mask of terror and manic, crazed fear.

“I need to see to him.”, Thor said and turned to go.

Natasha held him back. “This could be a trick.”, she said softly, her eyes never leaving the picture Loki painted, clutching his stomach now, the faint trace of tears visible on his cheeks as he shook his head as if in denial.

Thor balled his fists, but stayed. They were right.

The whole episode lasted about ten minutes, then Loki calmed down. He threw back his head, banging it against the wall, still pale as a ghost and with a sicklish sheen of cold sweat to his skin, lips chapped and red from him biting and chewing them, apparently. The would-be conquerer panted harshly, his chest almost heaved with effort to regulate his breathing while he pressed his hands to his eyes and choked out a sob.

Steve squinted his eyes.

“Is that blood?”

They quickly agreed on the fact that if blood was able to seep through sturdy leather, there had to be something wrong – vacating the monitoring room was all but a formality, then.

 

 

He should have known better.

He would never escape this curse. So he huddled into the corner, made himself as small as possible, buried his head in his arms and relished in the pain, for it was a balm to be punished by his own body. He deserved it.

How could he ever had hoped that this one would be different? And under these circumstances? Why had he bothered?

An ugly sob forced itself out of his chest, shuddering and desperate, followed by a series of others that all sounded more wrecked by the second.

He would have been better off dead by the Titan's hand. He would have been spared the pain, the excruciating loss, and the humiliation.

“Loki.”, he heard, but couldn't be moved to care.

A hand gripped his shoulder, and when he jerked to dislocate it, another settled on the other side as well.

And shook.

“Loki, stop this. What is wrong?”, he was asked, forced to lift his head and stare into the eyes of the man he had once called brother.

“Everything.”, Loki croaked out. “And there is nothing you or me or anyone else could do about that.”

“You are hurt – you're bleeding. Let me help.”

A laugh bubbled up, a twisted and sharp little thing that made Thor grip his shoulders harder.

“The bleeding stopped minutes ago. The damage is done. The wound will heal. Your help is not needed.”

_(“I am beyond help._ ”, went unsaid.)

“There could be more internal raptures. The amount of blood you seemed to have lost was not insignificant.”, another voice added softly.

Ah.

The  _Beast_ .

“Come to gloat, Banner?”, Loki chuckled breathlessly, wiping Thor's hands from his shoulders while moulding his features in a smirk. “To admire your work?”

“You know I don't.”

“What a shame – you had quite the impact.”

Sadly, there was no retort to his snide comment. He would have loved to lash out at him a bit.

His only option to redirect the anger away from himself.

Banner just sighed and switched places with Thor.

Loki bristled and pressed himself as far in the corner as he could, the smirk quickly vanishing.

“You will not touch me again.”, he hissed. “There is nothing more for you to destroy. You have taken everything.”

The hand that had reached out froze midway. Calm, soft eyes clouded over in confusion.

“What?”

Loki bit his lip before he could spill more.

Another sigh.

“Steve, Thor, could you... hold him down?”

No – no he wouldn't...

He would.

Loki was forced flat on the cot, arms and legs pinned by the two Blondes of the Avengers, before he had time to react or fight back. His mouth spilled out the most vile swears he knew while trying to draw his legs back up.

It was futile. Before long he had to concede defeat, panting harshly. He closed his eyes as gentle hands probed at his stomach, prodding tense and sensitive flesh and muscles that sent spikes of pain through his body.

“Is that...”

“Fourteen weeks – the second longest I have ever witnessed. And you ripped a hole into the amniotic sac that protected her, damaging the placenta as well. Congratulations, Doctor Banner. You killed a child.”

His words had been soft and quiet.

Loki didn't need to open his eyes to see the various stages of surprise and shock in their faces.

His legs were released, but it was of no importance any more.

Nothing was.

She was lost to him as were all the others. Jotnar couldn't afford to lose any source of nutrients – his body had absorbed whatever remained of her already.

Slowly, he pried Thor's fingers from his arms (again), and sat up gingerly. His back ached.

“All went perfectly according to plan until you decided to put me in the flooring.”

Banner jerked back like being electrocuted.

“You _debased_ yourself like that?”, Thor spat out a second after, his face a mask of incomprehension and shame, _shame_ , and Loki felt rage burning in the pit of his stomach.

“ _That_ is what captured your attention? That I have willingly lain with a _man_? I have felt my child die inside me not even an hour ago and you tell me I'm a _whore_?”, he yelled, and Thor went red in the face within a second.

“You should be ashamed of yourself! A prince! Spreading your legs for another! Who dared to defile you thus?”, the God of Thunder roared right back, taking a step towards Loki, who schooled his face into a perfectly neutral mask again.

“It is of no matter. With the truth of my heritage no one will willingly lay with me again – men nor woman.”

Thor looked ready to kill.

“Now wait a second – you were _pregnant_? How? All of you screams 'male'.”, Stark asked, finally closing the door behind him and snatching a chair. “Or is that common up in Fairy Land?”

Narrowing his eyes, Loki's mouth curled into a malicious smile.

“Why don't you tell them, Thor? After all, you seem to know exactly _how_.”

The tension in the small cell was almost palpable – the leather of Mjölnir's handle creaked with how hard her master gripped it, probably wishing to create havoc this second.

When he didn't answer, Loki sighed.

“As he surely told you, I am adopted. There is one race that appears male while being able to carry offspring like females do in other Realms. I hail from this race and was as surprised as you when I fell pregnant in this body.”

“He's fucking with us.”, Barton growled. “There's no way – it's impossible.”

“He has the matching womb. I'm in no way that kind of doctor, but I have treated miscarriages before. It fits.”, Banner argued softly.

“Loki, what have you done?”, Thor inquired in a voice quite unlike him. “I have not seen you for over a year, and Mother said...”

“...that I had allied myself with new friends? Well, apparently she was right.”

“None of that, do you hear? I will have answers. Have you lain with _them_?”, he asked, and once the implication hit all of them, they went slightly green around the gills.

“First you accuse me of whoring myself out, and now you say I lay with... I knew your opinion of me was a low one, but this – this is a slight I would never have guessed from a man who asked me to come home with him not three days ago. And you wonder why I harbour resentment against you?”

“Why did you come here? You should have known it would be dangerous for...”

Oh,  _now_ he asked.

“Contrary to your belief that I gave myself to the Chitauri like a common slut this last year, Midgard was but a halt in between. I was found in between the Worlds by a being that even I would not openly defy, and when I noticed my... predicament, I had to play his game for the small chance of survival I could gain.”

“When did you notice?”

“Too late. Too early. I don't know. Soon after he found me. See, there is a clever little trick a Jotun's body can play. If the surroundings are not ideal for a child to be born, or if the parent is in danger, the pregnancy slips into... I will describe it as hibernation, as it is the closest. The growth and development of the babe will stop, to be resumed when the circumstances change. I recognized the symptoms, and, out of an instinct, the child stopped growing. That instinct told me I had about a year to find a way out – and find a way back to Asgard.”

“You were with child during my banishment.”

Loki scoffed.

“Had I just known then. Alas, it would not have made any sense without knowing what I am.”, he said, curling back into his corner. “If you could leave now – I would like to mourn her loss privately. Or as privately as one can while under surveillance.”

“Brother-”

“No, you don't get to call me that any more, Odinson. Never again. Leave.”

The mage didn't watch, but he heard one after the other getting out of the room. Banner's steps sounded astray – Loki wondered how long he would be able to keep calm about his words. Barton had said the man was painstakingly aware of everything his Monster did and cursed the Beast.

“No, wait a second.”

Sighing, Loki shot Stark a withering glare.

“You said 'in this body' – that somehow implicates you did it before.”, the human told him and turned around to sit back on the chair.

“Oh, very good. I see why they call you a genius.”, Loki nodded. “If that was all...”

“Hardly. So, you've been preggers before?”

A nod.

“More than once?”

“What is it to you? Is this your curiosity speaking?”

“Nah. I just want to know if you have Mini-Me's running around, just waiting for us to relax to murder us in our sleep.”

A nice image. And like a knife to the heart.

“As much as I would welcome such action, rest assured that there are none. I remain without children.”

The door closed. Romanoff had chosen to stay as well, and Loki leaned his head back to the wall.

They would not let go without having the whole story – and he was not unwilling to give it. He needed to rant, to scream, to be angry, and if these two would listen... why not?

“How many, Loki?”

An icy fist closed around his heart and squeezed. It hurt so much remembering all the failures and all the miscarriages he had witnessed, all the lost lives because the Norns and Fates had decided he was to be a Father to none.

“Two hundred sixty-three. This one was the first I knew for sure to be a girl. I sired twins thirteen times, and even triplets two times. Once I carried twins. I lost them all in the first three months.”

Both Stark and Romanoff looked as if he had two or three heads after that.

“I've lived over a millenium – the years on Asgard do not differ much to yours. The child I lost today was the first in over five hundred years.”

“That's... holy shit, that's a kid every two years!”, Stark exclaimed. “Two hundred sixty-three? Really?”

“Yes.”, Loki confirmed, but his voice was small and empty.

He remembered how afraid he had been the first time, when he had been told “You are to be a Father.” - and how mad Frigga had been at him for getting her handmaid with child.

The situation had resolved itself a month later in the very sudden rush of blood down her skirts.

Loki had never again slept with a servant.

“One hundred and fourty-five I have sired. None of the woman have carried them for more than ten weeks. Some miscarried under pain and distress, some just had their monthly bleed. No child has taken a single breath.”

Stark looked like he was about to throw up.

“The wife I was wed to early in my life, Sigyn, fell pregnant seventeen times in the twenty years we were married. She killed herself in a bout of depression when it became clear that she would not be a mother. I was too late to save her.”

Swallowing hard, Loki slung his arms around himself once more.

“I wandered the Realms and watched how every woman I ever lay with lost the children I wanted so desperately. Even the most fertile Elves of Alfheim, who pride themselves with their plentiful offspring, have been unable to sustain my children. The time between grew longer. I couldn't bear to see more death. In my attempt to do anything, I studied magic so old that even the All-Father has never heard of it. It was futile. Even this curse on my person I mastered was useless to save my children.”, he whispered, voice thick with grief and desperation.

“And all the while Thor fucked his way through the Realms, uncaring of the many times he left part of himself behind in a womb, to never see his blue-eyed and fair-haired children. He had all I had ever wanted and did not even care to think of it. The Norse Legends called him God of Fertility – for all I know he could get a girl pregnant even two to three days outside of the ovulation period.”

Forcing himself to suppress the low rumble of laughter that would have sounded like he was even more insane than he already was, the Demi-God folded his legs to fit under his body.

“I kept track of them for him. They were family – nieces and nephews who didn't know their Father, and it felt like redemption for my own.”

He didn't care if Thor watched and heard what he had to say. He was done, and broken. His unborn daughter had been the only reason to hold back and find his way to Asgard once again.

“That's why you hate him.”, Romanoff stated, her tone surprised.

“And why should I not? I was only ever his shadow – never his equal. What I lacked he had in abundance, what I craved he had and waved it off.”

“So Thor doesn't know he's a Dad?”

“Until now – no. I care not if he listens. I cannot bear watching any more, just as I could not bear watch woman after woman lose my children. I refused to give up, though, and changed tactic.”

“You became pregnant yourself.”

“Yes. I am a talented shape-shifter, and I made use of it. I chose the men to sire my children with care – first only Aesir men. When I couldn't carry over the twelfth week, I took other races to my bed. It didn't work. The one time I carried twins, I lost one three weeks before the other. You can't imagine how that feels. I searched out the Norns and demanded answers, but I got none. I tried to find a reason why it wasn't for me to have children. In my anger and hatred I told tales of monsters that I had birthed and sired, creatures that would bring the End of the Realms, only to repel anyone who would want to cling too hard to a Prince of Asgard. In the end, I cried over so many lost lives that I couldn't carry on. I swore to myself that I wouldn't do it again after a final try. I knew a man who had never lost a child before, and he was my last resort, my last chance. I changed into a woman, seduced him, and just had to wait after that.”

The Widow blinked once. Stark looked lost.

“I never told him, nor does he know whom he bedded that night. The day I saw my belly turn outwards with a soft swell, something that had never happened before, I thought that I'd finally be rewarded.”

“You lost it.”, Stark breathed.

“Of course.”

“Who was it?”

Loki had never thought he would ever tell this.

Right now, he did not care in the least. His life was in shambles, his spirit broken, and he hated himself for wishing he'd never had known of his latest pregnancy so that he could have said 'no' to the Titan and be finally done with it all.

“What do you think?”

The need to mull it over did last a few seconds, but then Romanoff's head snapped up in epiphany and she was as pale as Loki.

“No way.”

“Can you imagine how cheated, how tricked I felt when all his other children were strong and healthy, never sick, and the one I carried, the one I tended to, cherished and sustained to the best of my abilities, was snatched from my womb by Death while I was sleeping? I had to deliver the babe when the placenta detached itself, and I held him, a perfect little boy that had no chance of living with how early he came, in the twenty-first week, and I cried over him the whole night until the woman I thought to be my mother found me and grieved with me.”

“Who?”, Stark asked again, sitting up straighter and whipping his head around. “Tell me. Come on!”

“I prepared a funeral worthy of a king in secrecy, and with him sent away all hopes of my own family. I swore to make the Allfather proud, to get at least that, and prayed that I would have this family to rely on. Since then, I have never sired nor gotten with child again. Until last year, and now you know why I couldn't let her die when I was given the chance to choose my fate, to either be tortured for the information they knew me to have and lose her or get the chance to plead to perhaps carry her to term with the help of Asgard's healers – or Jotunheim's, if that would have been what it would have taken to ensure she would have lived.”

And then, so quiet that almost neither Stark nor Romanoff had heard him, he added “I would have done everything for a being that would have loved me unconditionally.”

They left him alone after that. Someone brought him a spare pair of trousers he skillfully ignored, and he was left to himself and his loss for a few hours.

“We can't let you go.”, the Captain told him, but his tone was apologizing, as if he wanted to let Loki leave. “We understand, but we can't set you free.”

“I do not care for your pity, nor for your morals. I would have laid waste to your planet would he have wished it, just so that Thor would be sent here to get me back. The goal hasn't changed. You have the Tesseract – I am at the Allfather's mercy.”

“He has little, as you know.”, Thor said, his brows drawn down, face hard as stone.

“Then it is quite fortunate that my will to live has not greatly improved since last year, isn't it? Perhaps I'll be granted to see my children in Death.”

Thor grimly stared at him for a few seconds before Loki stood up to follow them outside.

“Is it true what the Lady Romanoff said to me? That it was I... that last...”

Ah. The last of his secrets. Unravelled and falling apart as everything in his life.

“Your son has lived almost twice as long in my belly than any other. If even you couldn't give me a living child, nothing can.”, he answered lightly, his steps sure as he was lead to a park. “That is the end to my sad little story. I will live the rest of my life in the Asgardian Dungeons, alone, abandoned, unloved, while you stand side by side with family and friends. Even now you are surrounded by your children, grandchildren and descendants of your children long dead, against me as you are wont, and the only one who ever will know am I.”

Fixing the Avengers with a very pointed look one after the other, Loki lifted his hands and set the muzzle he had snatched from Thor into place, ignoring the aghast looks they sent him.

He closed his eyes.

Whatever the price was – he hadn't been able to meet it. Happiness was apparently too expensive for a man like Loki.

There wasn't even a tear left in him to spill.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I do this again and again.  
> I turned this one over for six months before I was able to write it.  
> If you still feel like it, give me your opinion. Thanks for reading.
> 
>  
> 
> (Anyone catch my drift at the end? Please tell me :3)


End file.
